A breeze whisked through the small space under the opened window. Seven floors below, taxis honked and cars rushed down the busy Manhattan avenue; the sounds of a city enjoying the end of late October. A fading sun glazed her tanned skin the kind of color you'd see a star radiate in a 1930s matinee movie, leaving her seeming to be a Egyptian princess stepping into a panoramic set along the Nile. He shivered, partially from the cool pressing against his skin, but more because her outstretched hands, and fingers, were lingering along his waist. Teasing to drift lower. Or dance along the curve of his taut abdomen towards his buttocks. She offered him a Mona Lisa smile--soft, intriguing, almost imperceptible. His hands, strong and rugged, held her at her hips. She knew she wasn't going anywhere. She didn't want to go anywhere. A stray flicker of sunlight make her green eyes sparkle. She moved closer, the heat from her body pushing away any further chill.